


New Horizons

by springburn



Series: The Thick of It mini-fics [11]
Category: The Thick Of It
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-23
Updated: 2015-04-23
Packaged: 2018-03-25 09:49:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3805966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/springburn/pseuds/springburn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The second of my Thick of It mini-fics. It kinda follows After the Party, but I will be filling in the year or so gap at a later date.<br/>Malcolm and Sam are in Italy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	New Horizons

NEW HORIZONS.  
(A Malcolm fan-fic that buzzed around my head at 3am this morning and needed writing down!  
It kinda follows on from my ending of After The Party. It’s all fluff and nonsense but it pleases me!!)

 

Shafts of brilliant morning sunshine seeped through the open window, and the zephyr breeze puffed at the muslin curtain.  
Sam opened her eyes and rubbed them with the heels of her hands. Slowly spiralling out of her dream state. Turning her head to the side, she fondly regarded the still sleeping form that lay next to her.  
Malcolm was lying on his back, his beautiful hands folded across him, fingers gently linked. 

In sleep he was completely relaxed, no hint of tension in the brow, his jaw slack, eyelids flickering slightly as he dreamed.  
Sam smiled to herself as she allowed her eyes to linger on that Roman nose and sensual mouth. Her hand gently stroked the pillow of steel-grey curls, which he had allowed to grow, softening his face and taking years off him. A little hint of greying stubble peppered his chin.  
He stirred under her touch, but didn’t wake.  
It had taken months for him to sleep like this. Months when he would fall into bed in the early hours, drift into sleep, only to wake with a cry, as nightmares wracked him. He would rise before dawn, as his body always demanded, she discovering his side of the bed, cold and empty. Sitting alone downstairs, trembling and cold, she would take his hand, bring him back to bed and hold him close. And he would cling to her like a dying man.  
Slowly, very slowly, things began to change.  
They rented a small villa on the Amalfi Coast; wooden verandah, shuttered windows, peeling paint.  
Life took on a new meaning. New horizons beckoned.  
They walked, they swam, they drank wine, they talked and laughed.  
Malcolm started to write. Sitting in the cool shade of the porch, all his thoughts and memories poured from him like water from a spring. The advance on the memoirs was large, it would be a best-seller, of that there was little doubt.  
He began to feel better, different. 

Old scars healed, bitterness melted, anger faded and become less important, allowing light to reach inner darkness.The fire still burned but he had other priorities to stoke the flames. His lean frame no longer looked so gaunt, his skin lost its pallor. Sleep came more readily and nightmares less often. Which was why he was still here, next to her, dozing peacefully.  
Sam slipped out of bed and went to the window. The sun was almost blindingly intense, the sky so blue that it hurt. Dappled light sparkled and danced on the sea. Sighing with a deep contentment, there came a rustle of sheets behind her. Turning away, she met Malcolm’s blue-grey eyes smiling up at her.  
‘Morning! Sleepy head!’  
He stretched a hand out towards her and she slid back between the covers beside him…..he wrapped himself around her with a soft  
'Hmmmm.’  
He kissed her deep and long, fingers tangled in her hair,  
'Morning! I love you, Mrs Tucker, ’ he whispered.  
Just as she felt herself drifting into a delicious haze of love, a little burble and a mewling sound came from the next room.  
'Sounds like someone else is awake.’  
Sam made a move, but Malcolm’s hand stayed her….  
'I’ll go, he smiled, 'it’s my turn!’  
He pecked her cheek and flung back the sheet, reaching for a pair of boxers. Sam lay back, languidly, stretched her limbs and yawned. 

She chuckled to herself as she listened to 'The Great and Feared’ Malcolm Tucker cooing to his baby son.  



End file.
